© 2021 WYSO
Our Community. Our Nation. Our World.
Play Live Radio
Next Up:
Available On Air Stations

Poor Will's Almanack: July 31 - August 6, 2012

Flickr Creative Commons user |third|eye|

Poor Will’s Almanack for the final week of middle summer.

"Sit in your cell as in paradise," stated the 15th century monk St. Romauld. "Put the whole world behind you and forget it. Watch your thoughts like a good fisherman watching for fish. Empty yourself completely and sit waiting, content with the grace of God, like the chick who tastes nothing and eats nothing but what his mother brings him."

Now, a green frog lives in the pond near my house, and he doesn't seem to mind that I watch him. When I am sitting on the bench close to the pond, he will jump right up on the stones I have placed around the water's edge, and there he will stay for as long as I care to stay, motionless and without affect, betraying no emotion.Although I sometimes hear him croak in the night, he is always quiet when I am watching, both of us in our cell, so to speak.

For a while, I waited to see if my frog would actually do something. Maybe he would catch a fly, I thought, or dive in after a piece of fish food that was floating by. But the frog soon taught me that there was nothing to do.

And when I try to understand my frog, there IS really nothing for me to do but surmise, conjecture, imagine. Even then, I find no answers, no logical conclusions. The frog vigil is a tabula rasa, a blank slate, for my mind and body.

Now if I were a naturalist or a scientist, I would stay by the water as long as it took to know exactly what this frog ate and where he slept, and really how long he could stay out of water, and how far he could jump. If I were an academic, then I would learn all of those things and much more.

But the frog seems to be teaching me to leave the world of reason and specifics behind, and so I am free to contemplate the frog in itself. I can rest lightly in his impassivity. He is, after all, in his cell. He seems to be empty, content waiting for the grace in paradise.

This is Bill Felker with Poor Will’s Almanack. I’ll be back again next week with notes for the first week of Late Summer. In the meantime, find your cell - or frog - and wait.

Stay Connected
Bill Felker has been writing nature columns and almanacs for regional and national publications since 1984. His Poor Will’s Almanack has appeared as an annual publication since 2003. His organization of weather patterns and phenology (what happens when in nature) offers a unique structure for understanding the repeating rhythms of the year.